Demons Run

Demons Run (4) The Warning

     "Can you, um..." I gestured to a duffle bag next to him, "Toss me some clothes? I forgot."

     He nodded, his voice was husky as he spoke, "Yeah, what do you want?"

     "Just a big shirt and some shorts." I said. He leaned over the side of the bed and shuffled through the bag before retrieving what I asked for. "Thanks. Can you turn around?"

     He stared for a couple more seconds and met my eyes. Heat. There was undeniable heat mingled with tension. Finally, as if it were a struggle to do so, he turned his head toward the TV; when I was sure he wasn't looking I dropped the towel to the floor and slipped on the clothes. If I didn't know any better, I would've said he picked really short shorts on purpose. They disappeared under the big hockey shirt.

     I pushed my hair out of my face and sat down next to him on the bed.

     "I was starting to think you'd drowned." He commented. I didn't give much of a reaction. I was still upset from seeing him kill the demon woman, and still a bit shaken from the way he'd just been looking at me. Like he really... wanted me.

     He stared at me, waiting for a response. When I didn't, he looked annoyed. "What the hell is up with you? You've been really quiet since we left the diner. You're not upset, are you? She was a demon, Eve."

     "I'm not upset because you killed her. You did what you had to do." I said quietly, staring off into space and not meeting his gaze. "Would it surprise you if I said that's not the first time I've watched somebody die?"

     "No." He said, unblinkingly. I finally turned to face him. "From the second I first talked to you, I knew. You've got that far off look in your eye."

     "Then why didn't you ever ask?"

     "I figured if you ever wanted to talk about it, you would. If not, why bother you?" said Roman, "We're gonna be seeing enough death as it is."

      I never had parents. Didn't so much as know their names. I grew up in Saint Jude's Orphanage for the better part of my life. It was a dark and dreary place, but I suppose it gave me a new appreciation for the more beautiful things in life. We weren't exactly poor, all the workers made sure that we were fed and clothed properly, but we didn't get the latest toys or devices. I didn't get a cell phone until I'd moved into my own place at the age of eighteen. The Orphanage was located in a more suburban area, but wasn't far from a really bad part of town. One night when I was around fifteen, the bad part of town came knocking.

     I looked up at Roman through my lashes, breaking myself from the memory and refusing to dwell on it. I sank down a little further onto the mattress, "It just sent me back to a not-so-nice time in my life..." I paused, the question sticking to the tip of my tongue. "Roman... I - when you killed Azela, you didn't even blink. Do you... you know... enjoy killing?"

     His silver eyes pierced mine sadly. "Yes."

     I felt my stomach tighten up nervously. "Would you hurt me? If I wasn't your damned?"

     His eyes were fiery, his jaw set with sincerity. Whatever came out of his mouth next, he truly meant. "No. I couldn't hurt you, angel."

     "I believe you." I eyed him curiously, feeling a warm and safe sensation burrowing within my stomach. "I feel really safe with you. Why is that?"

     "It's our souls. They recognize each other." He said. His hand reached over and traced a little pattern on my arm. The skin where his finger touched lit up with response nerves, before fading away again as he pulled back his hand. My breathing had become low and shallow.